


Fashionable Disaster

by Esperata



Category: LEGO Batman: The Movie - DC Super Heroes Unite (2013), The LEGO Batman Movie (2017)
Genre: Awards Presentation, Friendship, M/M, Penguin has a crush, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: What should be a glittering night of celebration turns decidedly sour when Edward doesn't win and he says something he regrets.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 12
Kudos: 75





	Fashionable Disaster

It was the social event of the year, for Gotham’s gallery of rogues at any rate. Disrupting the regular socialites’ awards ceremonies was fun up to a point but got curtailed pretty quickly. It had been surprisingly easy to get everyone’s agreement to a private event of their own with more specific categories tailored to their skill sets. Everyone had been given a ballot the week before to vote on winners in various areas from ‘Most dramatic entrance’ to ‘Best vehicle modification’, with the proviso that no-one could vote for themselves.

Now they were all gathering at a disused theatre that Harley had dressed up for the occasion to have their own gala night of celebrating. Rogues had been arriving in ones and twos, so as not to draw too much unwanted attention, and most of them were now gathered in the foyer enjoying a rare opportunity to socialise.

Poison Ivy had provided nontoxic beverages in a spirit of comradery and Mad Hatter was busy trying to ensure Scarecrow didn’t drug it. Two-Face was occupied discussing odds with Joker, albeit not entirely focused on the awards ceremony.

“$10 says they’re dating,” Joker offered.

“You need something you can prove,” Harvey countered. “$20 they arrive together,” Two-Face added.

“Ha! They won’t do that. Not if they don’t want everyone to know they’re dating.”

He caught the other man’s hands, crossing his own to capture both at the same time, and shook vigorously.

“Aw hey Puddin’?” Harley skated up to them. “Isn’t it about time we went in?”

“Not yet Harley. We’ve got to settle a bet.” At her puzzled expression he clarified. “Two-Face here reckons Pengy and Riddler will arrive together.”

“Ooh. ‘cause they’re dating?”

“See, Harv? It’s an open secret.”

Two-Face held his tongue and instead flipped his coin, waiting to see the result before speaking.

“They’re not dating,” he concluded.

At that moment another vehicle pulling up drew their attention. There was no question as to the owner given its distinctive appearance: the Penguin. No-one else would ride around the city on a giant yellow armoured duck. Yet the individual dismounting now was most certainly not him.

Riddler dropped down lightly and swirled his cane before leaning upon it to await his companion who floated down with his umbrella seconds later.

With a grumble, Joker handed over payment to Two-Face.

“I still say they’re dating though.”

He got no reply as Riddler had by then arrived in their midst with a dramatic flourish.

“What’s green and smart and about to win lots of prizes?”

“A frog in a bowtie?” Joker suggested optimistically.

“Poison Ivy?” Two-Face opined.

“Me. The answer is ‘me’.” Riddler pouted at his unappreciative audience.

“I saw you arrived with Pengy.” Joker sidled closer and nudged him. “Anything you want to tell us, hmm?”

“Oh, yeah.” His confidence flagged. “My stupid car broke down. I had to hitch a lift.”

Two-Face couldn’t help but laugh at the frustrated expression on Joker’s face but then Penguin appeared beside them bearing drinks.

“Here you go Eddie.”

Riddler accepted his glass with a beaming smile.

“Thanks. Shall we go in now? We wouldn’t want to be late for my own victory.”

As they ambled off to get seats, Joker frowned after them.

“I still say they’re dating.”

“Maybe they are,” Two-Face allowed. “But they don’t know it yet,” Harvey pointed out.

◙

The evening was only getting worse as far as Riddler was concerned. Perhaps the breakdown had been a sign that he shouldn’t have come at all. He could rationalise not winning _all_ of the awards – he hadn’t really expected to win ‘Best female supervillain’ after all – but to not have won anything so far… it was eating at his nerves.

“I should have won ‘Most convoluted plot’,” he grumbled, not for the first time. “Who the hell is Bat-mite anyway? They don’t even sound like a supervillain. Probably one of Batman’s runaways.”

Penguin reached over and pat his hand consolingly.

“ _I_ voted for you,” he declared.

Although he didn’t want to show it, the affirmation did help. Still, he couldn’t help but point out the obvious flaw in his comforting strategy.

“Yes, but you’ve said that about _everything_.”

“Well…” Penguin sank back into his seat in embarrassment. “Maybe I did.”

“Maybe.”

Riddler ignored the dubious support from the other man in order to focus on the next award. It was one he truly thought he was the likeliest candidate for and he couldn’t help but perk up in anticipation. On the stage Harley had already done the hype and was now opening the result envelope.

“And the winner… of the best dressed super-villain award goes to… Penguin!”

A squawk next to him indicated Penguin was every bit as surprised as him to have won. It did little to console him though and he slunk down in his seat as he watched the shorter villain waddle his way up to the stage to accept his award.

Penguin meanwhile was in a blissful bubble of validation. He was receiving long overdue recognition, sorely needed, that he was stylish. That he was handsome. Attractive. It was his moment to shine. And he would use it to full advantage.

Taking the purloined statuette from Harley he basked in the applause, doubtless encouraged by the amount of punch everyone had consumed, and considered his speech.

“Thank you my criminal cohorts for this delightful acknowledgment of my efforts in sartorial elegance. I endeavour to uphold certain standards in our war against the Bat, showing that just because we’re criminals doesn’t mean our fashion sense has to be.”

A hoot of laughter came from Joker’s corner and various people started applauding the speech but Penguin wasn’t done.

“I’d like to take this moment to thank my dear friend, without whom I believe my efforts might have been a little poorer, my finery not as flash, and my panache a touch less prize worthy. Riddler!”

Everyone’s gaze swivelled in that direction, including Firefly’s who was manning the spotlight, only to see the table had been vacated.

“Oh.”

As Penguin shrank in on himself Harley took the reins once more.

“Well, I guess he’s getting more drinks.” She gestured him away to the stairs with a sympathetic smile. “So, on to the next award!”

Penguin focused on getting back to the table without drawing any further attention. With luck everyone would forget about his impromptu declaration of regard and Riddler would never hear a thing about it. That hope was almost immediately dashed however as the Creeper bounded up to him, microphone in hand.

“Soooo, newly crowned best dressed supervillain. How does that feel?”

“Good.” He drew on his pride to shore up his recent embarrassment. “Although only to be expected.”

He preened very slightly.

“And what about your former friendship with the Riddler? Was the victory worth the price?”

The wind abruptly dropped from his sails.

“Former?”

“I caught up with him just before he left,” Creeper grinned wide, although that was pretty much his default expression. “Asked him if he was happy for his friend’s win.”

A tape recorder seemed to suddenly appear in Creeper’s hand and he depressed the button to replay his last interview.

“ _Friends?_ ” Riddler’s voice was tinny but unmistakeable. “ _I don’t have friends._ ”

Penguin would deny it to his dying day but his lower lip wobbled humiliatingly before he could draw himself together. Gathering his things from the table he straightened his back as he faced his expectant interviewer.

“It doesn’t worry me either way,” he declared haughtily.

Then he turned and stalked his way out of the building with what dignity he had left.

◙

It had been days since the awards ceremony and nobody had seen hide nor hair of either Penguin or Riddler. Mostly, no-one actually cared. The one exception to that was Harley.

She’d gone round to Penguin’s Aviary of Doom hideaway but hadn’t been able to gain entrance. His feathered friends made it more than clear he wanted to be left alone. She’d never been one to let people hide from their feelings however so had co-opted some help in fixing the boy’s broken friendship.

Poison Ivy was not so easily defeated by his bird defences. Her gift with flowers meant she could easily distract most of them and entangle those she couldn’t side-track. She also had the proper attitude for commiserating with someone about the callousness of man, cajoling him to get out and commit some crimes. Which meant Harley could leave her to buck up Penguin’s spirits while she targeted Riddler’s Labyrinth of the Minotaur lair.

To say he was surprised when she roller skated her way into his supposedly secure sanctuary was an understatement and he momentarily spluttered.

“How did you solve my riddles?” he eventually demanded.

In lieu of answering immediately she held up her mobile phone.

“I have the internet. You really should have built this in a wifi blackspot.”

“Duly noted but it was an impromptu conversion.” He pouted. “What are you doing here anyway?”

“I came to knock some sense into ya. Pengy’s really hurt.”

“Oh please. He has his award. What’s he got to be upset about?”

“Maybe the fact his best friend told Creeper he didn’t have any friends?” she sassed back at him.

For a brief second a guilty look crossed Eddie’s face.

“He heard that?” Then he shook the mood away. “That’s doesn’t matter. _None_ of us have any friends. Not really.”

Harley gave him a slap upside the head for that remark.

“Ow!”

“Of _course_ we have friends you idiot! I’m friends with Joker and Ivy. Jervis is friends with Jonathan and March Harriet. And _you_ were friends with Penguin!”

Riddler rubbed his sore head and looked at her doubtfully.

“He didn’t _really_ like me.” His head ducked and he muttered quietly, “Nobody does.”

She couldn’t help but be moved by the sad conviction to his voice, even if she couldn’t wholly disagree with him.

“Look, you irritate the hell out of most people with your riddles and incessant word play. And yes, most of us can’t stand it after about five minutes. _But_ the one exception to that was Penguin. He _adored_ your stupid puzzles.”

“He… did?”

At his hesitant glance she nodded her confirmation.

“He liked you. I mean _really_ liked you. Weird as that seemed to the rest of us.”

A smile crept onto his face before being shoved back down abruptly.

“How do I know this isn’t just some practical joke on your part? Or Joker’s?”

“I thought you might say that so I brought this.” She pulled a paper out of a pocket. “It’s Penguin’s ballot paper.”

Cautiously he accepted it and glanced down, wondering how this would be proof of anything. What he saw made him gasp.

“This is… He really…?”

“Yup.”

She bounced on her heels while he took in the obvious conclusion from the sheet. Penguin had written Riddler’s name for every category. _Every_ category. Even the ones he wasn’t eligible for. And in place of the dot on the i he’d inscribed a heart. Each time.

“D’ya believe he likes ya now?”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“Good. Then you should use that brain of yours to figure out a way to make it up to him.”

Although Riddler nodded his agreement instinctively, his mind was still fixated upon the ballot paper and all the little hearts. It was without doubt the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for him and he was determined to make his response just as special.

◙

For all Riddler’s vaunted brainpower, he didn’t have the emotional intelligence necessary to circumvent Penguin’s avian animal army. Luckily for him, the perfect opportunity to approach the man unhindered soon presented itself. Or relatively unhindered at least.

In hindsight, trying to apologise to him while he was mid theft at the zoo may not have been his best idea.

“Penguin! Get this overgrown chicken off me!”

“It’s a lammergeier!” Penguin threw back irritably. “And why should I? It’s not like we’re _friends._ ”

Riddler stole a brief breather as he evaded the bird and darted for the cover of a bush.

“I didn’t mean that,” he argued.

“Yes you did,” Penguin squawked, at least momentarily distracted from directing his bird of prey on its attack.

“Alright so I _did_ mean it,” Riddler concurred. “I _don’t_ have friends.”

A cry of outrage preluded Penguin signalling to his lammergeier again and Riddler rushed to finish.

“I just have one! You!”

He ducked instinctively, not at all sure that word play would be enough to save him, but then felt the breeze over his head as the bird swooped by. Cautiously he looked up. Penguin’s face had softened.

“Do you mean that Eddie?”

“Yes!” He stole his chance and stepped closer albeit keeping a wary eye on the circling bird. “You’re my best friend Penguin.”

This received a huff in response.

“You just said I was your _only_ friend. That would make me by default the best. _And_ the worst.”

“Nonsense,” Riddler scoffed, confidence rising now they’d successfully opened a dialogue. “Why settle for anything less than the best? You’re my only friend _because_ you’re the best.”

That finally brought a smile to Penguin’s face.

“You’re my best friend too Eddie.”

Riddler couldn’t help but recollect the doodled hearts round his name repeatedly scrawled on Penguin’s ballot paper and wondered whether now was a good time to bring that up. The sound of police sirens settled that quickly enough however.

“Time to fly my beauty,” Penguin called to the freed bird. It flew down to him and he automatically reached for it before hesitating and glancing to Riddler. “She can’t carry two.”

“That’s fine.” He spun his cane dramatically for emphasis. “I’ll dance circles around these fools.”

A batarang splitting the air between them froze their expressions.

“Or maybe it _will_ be something of a challenge,” he allowed.

Turning to face the direction the aerial weapon had come from, he heard the bird taking off behind him. Stealing himself for the fight ahead he was momentarily shocked when a hand grasped his. Looking sideways he saw Penguin meeting his gaze resolutely, hefting his umbrella weapon in his free hand.

“What are friends for?” he offered.

Riddler grinned and tightened his hold.

“The less you have of me, the more I am worth.”

Whether Penguin would have got the answer to that, Riddler didn’t get to hear since another batarang knocked his top hat off, easily disrupting their conversation. He resolved to ask later, once the rude interrupter was sufficiently dealt with. Then they could discuss exactly how deep this friendship would go. He hoped it would be as if the Earth were made art. Utterly endless.


End file.
